


Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

by katnissdoesnotfollowback (lost_on_cloud_9)



Series: Oneshot Collection [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Birthday Sex, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Content, everlarkbirthdaydrabbles, siblings being dickbags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:42:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_on_cloud_9/pseuds/katnissdoesnotfollowback
Summary: For his twenty-fifth birthday, Peeta gets exactly what he's always wanted. Written April 2017 as a birthday gift for franceschee via everlarkbirthdaydrabbles on tumblr.





	Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FrancesChee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrancesChee/gifts).



**TWENTY-FIVE**

 

“I’m gonna be late. Please tell me you fixed some hot water for tea this morning,” Peeta says to his brother as he rushes into the kitchen and tosses his bag on the counter.

 

“Gotta move faster, old man,” Ryen teases, but lowers his newspaper enough to point to the kettle sitting on a silicone trivet.

 

“You're two years older than me,” Peeta grumbles, not bothering to look at what he is sure is a self-satisfied smirk on his brother’s face, choosing instead to focus on pouring the water into his travel mug and dropping in a tea bag to steep.

 

“Yes, but nothing good happens after twenty-five. They expect you to be an adult after twenty-five. For real,” Ryen complains and Peeta curses as the hot liquid splashes over the edges onto his hand when he moves it a little too forcefully towards the spot where he left the lid.

 

“Graham would disagree,” he mutters sarcastically as he shakes the tea droplets off his hand and wipes the residue on a towel. His skin stings, but he doesn’t have time to deal with it.

 

“Graham is an idiot,” Ryen returns, but he doesn't say the rest of what they're both thinking. 

 

Their oldest brother is currently racked out on their couch, having crashed there and made himself at home a month ago when his wife filed for divorce and their parents insisted that Peeta and Ryen needed to ‘take care of their poor, stressed out brother in his time of need.’ Graham hasn’t budged to find himself a new place since, choosing instead to revert to his bachelor lifestyle and mooching off his two younger, single brothers. 

 

But lately, in addition to the aggravation of their parents’ coddling of him, he’s been driving both Ryen and Peeta insane by dispensing what he calls ‘ _ pearls of wisdom _ ,’ which is basically their brother’s idea of life advice, but they both know it’s really Graham’s way of feeling better about himself...by making them feel inferior about their lives. For Ryen, it’s the promotion he didn’t get -- and didn’t want because it meant moving to another city. For Peeta, it’s the fact that for the past two years, he hasn't had a steady girlfriend -- and hasn't wanted one since every date he's been on in that time has felt like a betrayal.

 

“Since he’s so deep in divorce attorney bills that he apparently can’t even spare a twenty for a birthday present, he’s determined to get you laid tonight,” Ryen warns, making Peeta jump and bang the back of his head on the fridge. He winces and sighs when he sees that they’re out of milk. Slams the fridge shut to glare at his brother.

 

“His idea, not mine,” Ryen insists, holding his hands up in what’s meant to be an innocent gesture.

 

“You expect me to believe you didn’t have a hand in that suggestion? Right. Well, tell him that I’m not interested,” Peeta says and slings his bag over his shoulder, grabbing his tea and his blazer, and rushing out the front door, thumb entering a reminder into his phone to pick up milk and a few other essentials they’ve run out of on his way home from work, because neither of his brothers will take care of that. He'll have to stop by the school’s cafeteria to get some milk for his tea, and put himself even further behind schedule. His lunch break will simply need to be sacrificed to finish grading papers for his afternoon classes.

 

“Tell him yourself, old man. And have a nice day, Dipshit!”

 

“You too, Asshole,” Peeta shouts over his shoulder and then comes up short at the sight waiting for him out on their driveway. His best friend, leaning against his car door with a brown paper sack in her hands, her car parked out on the street. His lips automatically curve up in a smile that she returns.

 

“Happy Birthday, Peeta,” Katniss says as she shoves herself off his car and steps aside so he can toss his things inside.

 

“It is now,” he replies, missing the slight flush that spreads across her cheeks while his head is in his car and his attention on getting his tea into the cup holder without spilling more and burning himself again.

 

When he stands upright to focus on Katniss, she brushes some lint off his shoulder and he tucks his hands in his pockets so he doesn’t do something stupid like haul her against his chest and kiss her senseless. 

 

“Any big plans for tonight, birthday boy?” she asks, oblivious to what her melodic voice and words do to him. Usually they would’ve made plans by now, but they’ve both been so busy at work, they haven’t had a chance to talk about it in more than a general capacity.

 

“Avoiding my brothers’ schemes to spice up my life,” he says and Katniss laughs. “Care to help me with that?”

 

“Sure,” she says and reaches out to straighten his tie and ruffle his hair a little. He’s not sure what was wrong with it before, but Katniss seems satisfied with his appearance now, and that’s good enough for him. “Netflix and dinner? I know it’s not exciting...”

 

“Sounds great,” he says with a smile, already relaxed at the idea of spending his birthday lounging on the couch with his closest friend. 

 

“Since it  _ is _ your birthday, I’ll cook. Johanna has a date tonight, though, so I suggest your place,” she admits with a quirk of her lips and Peeta has to smother a laugh. 

 

The last time they hung out at her place, Katniss’ roommate had brought home a date and gave the pornography industry a run for its money in the erotic noises department. Katniss had been so embarrassed until Peeta suggested they head up the street to Midnight Milkshakes, an ice cream place that stays open until well into the early hours of morning. They’d both been exhausted at work the next day, but it’d been worth it to spend the time talking and laughing with her over a shared caramel apple milkshake.

 

“I’ll get rid of my obnoxious brothers. Six o’clock alright?” he asks and Katniss nods, shoving the brown sack at his chest. “What’s this?”

 

“Breakfast,” she says and he smiles as he peeks inside to find one of his favorites from his family’s bakery, a savory croissant wrapped around a slice of ham, some cheese, and eggs. When he looks up to thank her, her mouth bumps into his. He freezes. His heart thuds wildly in his chest as she pulls back, too soon for his brain to register anything important like texture or taste or reality. Her cheeks flush bright red and she looks away from him faster than the kiss lasted.

 

“Um, so, yeah. See you tonight, Peeta,” she mumbles as she practically sprints to her car. 

 

He waits until she’s turned the corner before he drops heavily into his driver seat. His brain makes no note of the drive to work, too occupied playing the moment over and over in his head, trying to make sense of why Katniss kissed him. Of what makes today so different from any other day they’ve spent together, and desperately trying to not get his hopes up. She didn’t look too excited about kissing him, after all. She basically ran for the hills as soon as it was over.

 

“Ah, fuck. Stupid, stupid stupid,” he mutters to himself, thumping his head onto his steering wheel after he’s parked in the teacher’s lot and the truth punches him in the gut. She was aiming for his cheek. Of course she was aiming for his cheek.  _ That _ would make sense, since she’s kissed him there before, but Peeta lifted his head at the wrong moment and instead accidentally forced her to kiss him on the mouth. No wonder she was so embarrassed.

 

With a heavy sigh, he shoves himself from his car and grabs his things. Now he’s going to have to figure out how to apologize for the faux pas of kissing his best friend in front of his house, without letting on that he’s madly in love with her.

 

Happy Birthday, indeed.

 

_ ************************** _

**TWENTY-ONE**

 

_ ‘Just let these little leaves fall off your brush. All kinds of little things happy. And go out sometime in the woods and study trees. Talk to trees. Whatever it takes. The tree needs to be your friend if you’re going to paint him.’  _

 

“Hey,” a smoky female voice says in his right ear, making him jump and tug out the earbud from his left. “As much as I enjoy watching you paint along with Bob Ross, you might want to pay attention. She’s about to tell us what’s gonna be on the test on Friday.”

 

Peeta doesn’t turn around because Professor Coin is inspecting the rows of students, steely eyes looking out for anyone not paying attention or talking. He ducks his head, pauses his video, and switches windows on his laptop before typing madly for a second or two. When Coin turns her back on the class again, he angles his head enough to mutter over his shoulder at his thoughtful neighbor. “Thanks.”

 

“No problem. Paint me the cabin by the lake next lecture and we’ll call it even,” she says and he can hear the jaded smile in her voice. He wonders what she looks like, but Coin’s throwing rapid fire terminology and concepts at them to review so he remains facing forward.

 

He hates this class, and he rarely ever hates his classes, but economics is just so  _ boring _ . There’s no life to it and he took up painting in a drawing app in one window while Bob Ross’s sonorous voice calmly talks about happy trees and other far less stressful things in another window to get him through the hours of drudgery. Still, he didn’t want to be called out as a slacker, so he was always careful to only use one earbud so half his brain could pretend to focus on the lecture.

 

As the list of material to be covered on the test lengthens, he keeps stealing looks at the clock in the bottom right corner of his screen, counting down the minutes until he can finally talk to the girl behind him. His curiosity is piqued and he wonders if she’s been watching him paint for the past two months. It should bother him, having someone look over his shoulder like that, but if it’s gotten her through the dull lectures too, he can’t be sorry about it.

 

He wracks his memory for an image of her, but he always gets to this class a little early since that’s the way the bus schedules worked out, comes in through doors that enter the massive lecture hall from the upper level and walks down the stairs to his seat, and then doesn’t really look behind him during the class. He’s certain he’d remember if someone was sitting right behind him when he arrives, so she must get to this class after him.

 

Finally, Coin wraps things up and Peeta twists around in his seat to catch her before she leaves, she’s bent over her book bag, stuffing her textbook and a binder into it, her dark hair in a braid, partially obscuring her face from him.

 

“Hey, thanks again,” he says, catching her attention as she sits up and looks at him with pewter gray eyes. A distant memory sends bells ringing in his head, but he extends his hand to her anyways. “I’m Peeta.”

 

“Katniss,” she says, but makes no move to shake his hand. 

 

“Katniss Everdeen?” he asks and hopes his voice isn’t as squeaky and stunned as it sounds in his head. Her eyes narrow a little and he shakes his head, clearing the fog that seems to be obscuring his ability to think. “We went to Panem Twelfth District Elementary together. I’m Peeta Mellark? Dad owned the bakery?”

 

“Oh. Yeah,” she says, and he’s not convinced that she remembers him. Why would she? She didn’t even know he was alive back then, but he had the biggest crush on her until the mines closed when they were eleven and her family had to move away because her father had found a job across the country.

 

“Okay, well, um, thanks. For the warning about the test. Again,” he says and wipes his palm on his shirt for something to do with his hand, which she still hasn’t touched. 

 

He turns back around, a little humiliated and closes his laptop before sliding it into his bag. Ten years later and he still can’t even manage a passable conversation with Katniss Everdeen. Pathetic. So he’s more than a little surprised when he stands with his things and she’s still there, watching him.

 

“You used to bring in cupcakes for the whole class around the first day of spring every year,” she says, startling him that she’d remember that.

 

“Yeah. I did. March 20th. It’s um, my birthday,” he says and shrugs, because that also happens to be today. It’s always kind of sucked anyways so he figures what harm can come of him telling his childhood crush what today is.

 

“Then Happy Birthday, Peeta,” she says with a small smile that sends his pulse skittering for a second. “Any big plans for the night?”

 

_ Wait. What?  _ Is she flirting with him?

 

He’s not sure what to make of this unexpected development and takes a second to find his bearings in this unknown territory. “Nothing special. My brothers are taking me out for my first legal drink, because what the world really needs is one more obnoxiously drunk guy in a bar.”

 

She laughs. She actually laughs at something he’s said, the sound musical and beautiful. He’s heady with it and that surely is the reason he keeps speaking like the idiot he is.

 

“You wouldn’t want to come celebrate with us, would you? You could bring a few friends with you, if you like.”

 

Katniss examines him for a moment, chewing on the corner of her bottom lip in the most adorable way.

 

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll have to see what my roommate has planned for the night,” she says, but she asks for the name of the bar just in case.

 

Despite his brothers’ encouragement later that night, he manages to nurse his drinks and keep his head. Should Katniss show up, he doesn’t want to be wasted. As the night wears on with no sign of her, though, Peeta mentally berates himself for getting his hopes up. Eventually, his brothers drink themselves deep enough that Peeta knows he needs to get them home before they do something dumb, like get themselves arrested.

 

He approaches the door, with both brothers hanging off his shoulders, and of course, that’s when she walks in with a group of friends. For a moment, he watches her twirl the end of her braid around one finger and scan the crowds. When she sees him, she drops her braid to wave, and he shrugs, giving his brothers annoyed looks. She seems to understand, because her friends say something to her and instead of stopping to talk with him, she heads straight for the bar with one last shy wave of her hand.

 

So much for that.

 

But on Friday, when they’re packing up after their economics test, and he’s more confident than usual about how he did, she leans over his shoulder to whisper a reminder in his ear that he owes her a cabin by the lake. He smiles, still facing forward so she can’t see his goofy expression, and makes sure to have the video queued up at the start of Monday’s class. 

 

************************

**TWENTY-FIVE**

 

It isn’t until his third period class is filing out the door on their way to their next class that he manages to fire off a text message to Katniss. Part of that is because he’s been debating about how to handle the accidental kiss. Eventually, he settles for acting like it didn’t happen, just to test the waters, see how she’s feeling, before he brings it up.

 

_ P: Thanks for the breakfast this morning. It was delicious. _

 

**_K: Anytime. I figured you’d be running late after I kept you up last night with my venting._ **

 

_ P: Did talking it out help you sleep better at least? _

 

He feels a little guilty for waiting until now to ask her how she slept last night after they spent hours on the phone discussing a research grant she applied for and was having second thoughts about taking, since she’d be working for a colleague she’s butted heads with already. It’d be good for her career, but Katniss is worried that the stress won’t be worth the rewards. Here he’s been tied in knots over an accidental kiss that he’s probably overanalyzing while she’s dealing with life altering decisions.

 

**_K: Sort of._ **

 

Peeta’s brow wrinkles at that. Usually she tells him that his empathy when she unloads her problems on him and his calm voice as they talk her through to a solution are exactly what she needed to help her relax and lull her into peaceful slumber. He worries that maybe he wasn’t the friend she needed last night, although he’s got no idea what he could’ve said or done wrong. Since their friendship is the most important thing in the world to him, he needs to be sure he didn’t give her a half-assed effort or say something bone-headed last night.

 

_ P: Am I losing my touch? ;-) _

 

The first few students of his fourth period class wander into the room and he tucks his phone back into his pocket, even as it buzzes with a new message, to focus on greeting them. Katniss knows his schedule; she’ll understand if he doesn’t respond for the next fifty minutes or so.

 

Pushing his rolled up sleeves a little further up his arms, he smiles at his class and gets back to work, shoving thoughts of Katniss and worries about that not-a-real-kiss to the back of his mind. It works until his lunch break, when he takes a look at the text message she sent back to him.

 

**_K: Actually, it’s the opposite_ **

 

What the hell does that mean?! He’s on the verge of being a wreck for the rest of the day, and it’s a good thing he’s busy because otherwise he’d fire something back, demanding an explanation. At the end of the day, he settles on something simple, deciding that this is a conversation to be had in person rather than over text where inflection and nonverbal cues can be lost or misinterpreted.

 

_ P: Are we still on for tonight? _

 

**_K: See you at six_ **

 

Relief and dread mingle in his middle as he leaves the school and heads for the grocery store with his short list. Relief that the last text from her sounded more like she’s acting like herself again, dread that they still haven’t even mentioned what happened this morning.

 

************************

**TWENTY-TWO**

 

Someone is pounding on his door, and all he really wants to do is tell them to  _ fuck off _ , but immediate guilt at the unkind thought sweeps through him and he opens the door.

 

“You’re taking me out for milkshakes, birthday boy,” Katniss says, charging him and shoving him back in the apartment and towards his room.

 

“Katniss, I--”

 

“No excuses. It’s your birthday, and while your mother might be a complete bitch and an incompetent parent, I forbid you to mope.”

 

“It’s raining,” he says, tugging nervously on his ratty t-shirt. She crosses her arms and scowls at him. With a sigh, he ducks inside his bedroom and changes into jeans and a nice shirt. One with a collar and no holes in it, shoves his arms into the sleeves of his jacket and lifts one eyebrow at her, requesting her approval.

 

“Better,” she says with a perfunctory nod and opens the door before marching out like she’s royalty. 

 

By the time they reach the new dessert parlor, Midnight Milkshakes, they’re both drenched and decide they want hot chocolate instead. She gets marshmallows on hers while he asks for whipped cream and cinnamon. When they take their seats, she surprises him by sitting next to him in the booth instead of across from him.

 

He laughs lightly when she snuggles into his side and drapes his arm around her, nearly making him spill his drink. She must be cold, but he’s not about to make her stop what she’s doing and rubs his hand up and down her arm to work some warmth back into her.

 

“See?” she asks as he takes his first sip of cocoa. “This is much better than a cruise in the Caribbean, right?”

 

There’s still a tiny part of him that’s angry with his mother for taking a cruise over his birthday with her new husband, and hurt over his mother’s roll of the eyes and exasperated sigh when he brought it up. ‘ _ You’re twenty-two, Peeta. You don’t need birthday parties anymore _ .’ No, he doesn’t, but those cruises leave every few weeks. She could've picked a different date. Plus, he’d still like it if someone at least  _ tried _ to make the day special for him. Like Katniss is doing right now.

 

Sometimes, he still can’t believe the stroke of luck that placed them at the same university, in the same economics class. Or that led her to sit behind him the first day of class and find herself absorbed in his digital paintings. She’s his best friend and the one person he can always count on, so he ignores the flip that his stomach does when she smiles up at him, moaning in delight at her cocoa. Again when they’re curled up on his couch beneath a blanket, Katniss in a pair of his borrowed sweats because their clothes got further drenched in the rain on their way back here. And again when she yawns and rubs her cheek against his shirt.

 

“Keep talking, Peeta,” she urges him, her voice drowsy with pending sleep. “Your voice is soothing.”

 

He’s not sure what he talks about, but when she slips into slumber with a faint smile on her face, he wraps his arms around her and smiles himself, content with the way his birthday turned out. When he wakes with Katniss still curled in his embrace, he sighs and decides the aches in his neck and lower back from sleeping propped up on the couch like this are totally worth it. 

 

************************

**TWENTY-FIVE**

 

“So here’s the plan--”

 

“No,” Peeta cuts Graham off before his brother can even get started. “Whatever crazy idea you’ve got in your head, expunge it right now.”

 

“Oh he’s using the AP English words. That’s how you know you’re losing this fight, right, Graham?” Ryen laughs as he loosens his tie and takes the milk from Peeta to put in the fridge and grabs three beers, passing one to each of his brothers.

 

“You got a better plan?” Graham asks as he twists the cap off his beer and chucks it across the room into the trash can.

 

“Yeah,” Peeta says after taking a sip of his own beer. “You two get lost so I can actually have a pleasant birthday spent with my best friend.”

 

“Oh christ,” Graham mutters and Ryen shakes his head.

 

“What?” Peeta asks indignantly.

 

“You’re spending your twenty-fifth birthday with her?” Graham asks, sounding highly offended.

 

“Of course I am!”

 

“That’s a terrible decision,” Graham mutters and Peeta’s the one offended now.

 

“He’s right, Peeta,” Ryen says and they both stare at him. “Well he is!”

 

“Thank you,” Graham says smugly.

 

“Don’t think so highly of yourself. I’m saying this for Peeta, not because I think your broke and almost divorced ass should ever be listened to. Peeta, listen to me. Go fuck someone. Seriously. Maybe then you’ll get over this unrequited love you’ve been harboring for Katniss for years.”

 

“Excuse me for wanting to spend my birthday with someone I actually like being around rather than some horny stranger you two dig up out of a misguided sense of taking care of me,” Peeta says and moves to finish putting the groceries away. “And since it is my birthday, I suggest you two finish your drinks and get lost. She’ll be here any minute now.”

 

“Fine, fine, but only because it’s your birthday,” Ryen concedes, dragging a protesting Graham towards the living room. “Come on, ya bum, let’s go see if you’ve actually got decent bar hopping clothes before we raid my closet.”

 

“Just pick up the living room before you go, will ya?” Peeta shouts after them.

 

“Just kiss her already, will ya?” Ryen returns and Peeta’s cheeks burn with the humiliating reminder that he kind of already did. And it was nothing like the first kiss he’s imagined a hundred thousand times.

 

Thankfully, though, his brother’s are busy getting ready to go by the time Katniss shows up with a bag of groceries in her hands and unable to humiliate him in front of her.

 

************************

**TWENTY-THREE**

 

He opens Skype ten minutes early, plugs in his laptop and sets it to never sleep when plugged in. Just to be sure. Then he walks away from his computer, certain that he won’t be hearing from her, even though she was very specific in her instructions. She’s got precious little internet time where she is, and he doesn’t want to miss it, but he’s trying not to get his hopes up. So far, he’s gotten Happy Birthday greetings and gifts from his brothers, but otherwise, twenty-three is indistinguishable from twenty-two. Peeta’s in the midst of preparing himself mentally to be let down when his laptop starts beeping and blooping with an incoming call.

 

The chair nearly slides out from under him in his haste to sit down. He runs his hands through his hair and smiles before pressing the green circle to answer. Immediate joy rushes through him when she smiles at him.

 

“Happy Birthday, Peeta,” she says and his heart does somersaults, just so happy to hear her voice for the first time in months.

 

“Hey, beautiful,” he breathes out and she blushes a little. He kicks himself for his blunder but keeps going in the hopes that she won’t drag him on his birthday for it. “How’s the research going?”

 

She’s spent the past six months on a research trip for her masters degree in anthropology, somewhere in the Australian Outback. Her passion is bringing to light the stories of people forgotten or erased from history around the world. While he couldn’t be more proud of her pursuit of her dreams or her success at securing the coveted grant that took her to another country, he still misses her terribly.

 

“Great,” she says, and he takes the opening to ask her a thousand questions he’s been saving for when they get to talk face to face. They’ve been restricted to e-mail and one very static filled call on a satellite phone due to the time difference and her rare access to the internet or postal services. After several minutes of conversation, she glances down at her wrist and shakes her head. “I’m almost out of time and we’ve barely talked about you!”

 

“Trust me, anything I have to say right now is far less interesting. Grading papers, writing lesson plans, rereading  _ To Kill a Mockingbird _ for the twelfth time.”

 

“You love that book,” she says with a lift of her eyebrow.

 

“Maybe,” he shrugs.

 

“I got you something. I’m sorry I couldn’t get it there on time, but I want to carry it back myself. Not sure I trust our postal runners here with it.” She lifts a flat stone covered in colored dots -- yellows, browns, reds, white, and even some greens -- that form a sun shining in a vibrant sky.

 

“Is that…?”

 

“It is. Ochre artwork,” she confirms.

 

“It’s beautiful, Katniss. I love it.”

 

“I thought you might,” she says as she sets it down beside her and then gives him a grin. “But wait! There’s more!”

 

He laughs at her gameshow host imitation and nearly cries when she shows him the cover of a book, all about art techniques of the aboriginal peoples of Australia. He has to scratch at the corner of his eye to keep from crying. She’s over ten thousand miles away and still managed to find the perfect gift for him. Something that’s both her and him.

 

“I’m sorry it’s going to be late,” she murmurs, her face losing some of it’s happiness, probably because he’s a nitwit and nearly crying at her gift.

 

“No, don’t be. It’s perfect and I can’t wait to see it in person because then you’ll be home, too,” he says, his voice sounding a little hoarse even to him. They manage a few more minutes before she has to go, but before she does, Katniss sings  _ Happy Birthday  _ to him, her voice sultry and soothing and perfect all at once. Perfectly wonderful and perfectly tormenting him.

 

When they hang up, he slowly shuts his laptop and then heads to bed early, needing to end his birthday on the best possible note.

 

************************

**TWENTY-FIVE**

 

“You sure you don’t want to join us,” Graham asks as he and Ryen stand in the doorway that leads to the garage. “Bring Katniss with you. She could be your wingman.”

 

Peeta grips tight to the edges of his temper. They probably don’t notice the way Katniss pinches her lips together in a scowl and turns away to vigorously chop the vegetables for their dinner. It’s a sure sign that she’s upset, and given what happened on his birthday last year, he wants this line of conversation to end quickly. 

 

“There’s only so much that flying solo can accomplish,” Ryen joins in with a rude hand gesture and Peeta chucks the kitchen towel at them to get them to leave. The rosy flush on the back of Katniss’ neck tells him that she saw the gesture out of the corner of her eye, so now not only is she upset over something, she’s also embarrassed. She never did like talking about physical intimacy.

 

“What’s that all about?” Katniss asks tightly after they’ve finally gone.

 

“Nothing important,” Peeta says and stands beside her to help. She bumps her hip into his to try and move him away from her, but he persists, snatching the vegetables and taking over the task of chopping as she moves to slide the meat into the oven. “Graham’s decided that since he’s going to be a bachelor again, he’s dragging the rest of us into debauchery right along with him.”

 

“They wanted to find you a one night stand for your birthday?”

 

“Yeah,” he says and turns to ask a question about the food. He knows she’s curious but won’t like following that line of questioning. Talking about food distracts her, though. Within minutes, he’s got her smiling and laughing again, the discomfort of his brothers’ plans and comments momentarily forgotten.

 

Once their dinner is ready, they take their seats on the couch and Peeta scrolls through options until Katniss settles on catching up on  _ Outlander _ . For him, she insists. She’ll never admit that the love story intrigues her, especially the aspect of Claire’s torn loyalties between her husband and the man she’s clearly falling in love with.

 

************************

**TWENTY-FOUR**

 

“What the hell, Peeta?” she yells at him and he tries to shut his mouth, but can’t get over the shock at her unexpected fury. “You have a  _ date tonight?!” _

 

Her eyes ignite and he holds up his hands, unsure where exactly he went wrong. She’s been seeing some guy she works with at the university for the past four months and he didn’t think she’d care. They’ve gotten serious and it’s been slowly killing him to listen to her talk, to sound so happy in the arms of someone else. Hoping it would help him move on or forget, he asked Jackie, the red-haired girl at his book club, if she’d go on a date with him and didn’t tell her that the date was on his birthday because he wants to forget and didn’t want to put that kind of pressure or expectation or  _ weirdness  _ on a first date. 

 

It’s  _ his _ birthday, after all. Shouldn’t he get to do what he wants?

 

Katniss sputters angrily when he vocalizes that last thought to her and throws something in his arms before she storms out of the house. He thinks about chasing after her, but he’s angry, too. Angry that she didn’t bother to make plans with him or mention anything about his birthday until right this second. And yes, he’s to blame too, for neither asking her about it nor bringing it up. But she's been the one person the past four years to actually make his birthday special, and he had himself convinced that now that she’s got a boyfriend, she wouldn’t want to make a big deal out of Peeta’s birthday anymore. Or maybe that she’d even forgotten. Her silence on the matter in the past few days only helped confirm that in his mind. He never dreamed she’d be this upset over him having a date.

 

Fueled by anger and hurt, he leaves his place to meet up with Jackie, but he’s distracted through dinner and lags in the conversation. Besides, his heart isn’t in it. He gave his heart to his best friend a long time ago, and is just pathetic enough to have never taken it back.

 

At the end of the date, he heads home and changes into something to sleep in, although he’s probably not sleeping tonight. Not with thoughts of Katniss wreaking havoc on his mind. Finally, he sits on his bed with the thing she threw at him and carefully peels away the paper, staring down at the butter soft cover before flipping it open and sighing. She put together a scrapbook of sorts. Pictures of them through the years, a few of his sketches that disappeared and he’d wondered where they’d gone off to, ticket stubs that she’s saved, a few napkins with his doodles or their games of tic-tac-toe on them, pressed flowers from their hikes and other assorted outdoor adventures. It’s perfect, beautiful. 

 

With another deep sigh, he picks up his phone and calls her, expecting her to ignore him, surprised when she answers with a wavering voice.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Katniss, I’m sorry,” he says immediately. She sniffles a little.

 

“I’m sorry, too, Peeta. You were right. It’s your birthday and you should get to do what you want. I just thought, well, I guess I thought you’d want to do something with me.”

 

“I did. I do, Katniss. But you didn’t mention it once. I assumed you had plans with Darius or something.”

 

“No. I should’ve said something to you sooner it’s just he... Well never mind what he said.”

 

“Okay, what did he say? You can’t drop a bomb like that and not tell me whether or not I need to go kick his ass for you,” Peeta says and Katniss laughs, because they both know that Peeta’s methods of revenge are far less direct but far more effective than a fist to the face, no matter how much he’s wanted to punch any number of her sleazy ex-boyfriends in the past.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “We broke up this morning anyways.”

 

“What? Why didn’t you tell me that?”

 

“Because it’s your birthday, Peeta, and I didn’t want to ruin it for you with my drama,” she says and he shakes his head, stunned that she hasn’t figured out yet that he would drop everything for her. In a heartbeat.

 

“I’ll be there in two minutes. Do you have stuff for hot chocolate?”

 

“Maybe? I don’t know?”

 

“Make it ten minutes then,” he says.

 

“Thank you, Peeta,” she whispers.

 

Fifteen minutes later, they’re curled up on her couch, sipping hot chocolate and watching some dumb comedy that was queued up in her roommate’s Netflix. Katniss rests her head on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around her, allowing her to get closer to him. He savors the moments when she laughs and he can both feel it and hear it, lets his hand skim up and down her arm. Eventually, she starts to nod off and he carefully extricates her mostly empty mug from her grip before setting it on the end table.

 

“Stay with me tonight, Peeta,” she murmurs as he carries her to her bedroom. She nuzzles her way further into his embrace. It’s not an unusual request of hers. They’ve shared a bed before. And even though they didn’t do anything big to celebrate his birthday this year, there’s nowhere else he’d rather spend it than right here with her.

 

“Always,” he whispers when they’re settled beneath her covers and her body relaxes beside him as she slips away into slumber.

 

************************

**TWENTY-FIVE**

 

“So maybe we should do the cake now,” Katniss suggests as Peeta hands her a few more plain candles. “Why do you have so many of these?”

 

“Leftovers from Ryen’s last serious relationship. Something about seduction by candlelight on Valentine’s Day.” He laughs when Katniss drops them on the counter like they’re hot coals. She gathers them back up as he shuts the cabinet and climbs down from the step stool, pointing the way with the flashlight as they work their way around the living room, setting up the candles and lighting them.

 

A chill works its way down Peeta’s spine as the thunder rolls and rumbles outside. The rain lashes the windows in a crescendo as the wind picks up, then gradually softens. A freak storm rolled through before they were even twenty minutes into the episode they were watching and knocked out the power. He’s already checked on his brothers, who made it safely to some hip bar Graham wanted to check out before the storm hit.

 

Once they’ve got enough light in the room, Peeta flops back down on the couch and Katniss resumes her spot from earlier, tucked into his side with one hand resting on his thigh. He shifts nervously, listening to the storm and wondering what they should talk about. This usually isn’t a problem for them, so he starts by asking about her day at work.

 

The candles cast a soft glow over the room as they talk in soft tones, which would usually help him relax and make him drowsy, but Katniss’ hand keeps drifting up and down his thigh. And it’s having a disastrous effect on him. His jeans grow tighter by the second. For now, she’s oblivious, but he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable with how turned on he’s getting by a little innocent cuddling and conversation.

 

When her hand travels a touch higher than her previous passes over his leg, he shifts to keep her hand away from his groin. Katniss turns her head to look up at him. “Are you alright, Peeta?”

 

“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

She shrugs slightly and chews on her lip. Peeta sighs, sensing that they’ve finally gotten to the point where they’ll need to talk about that awkward kiss.

 

“Katniss, about this morning,” he says, reminding himself of how irreplaceable her friendship is in his life. “It was an accident. I didn’t know you were...anyways, I don’t want things to get awkward between us because I moved my face at the wrong time.”

 

“It’s fine, Peeta,” she says, sounding irritated and looking away from him. He can’t even manage an apology for kissing her without offending her, how can he possibly expect to actually kiss her? And he admits that he’s been thinking about it. More than usual, at least.

 

“I’m just sorry you got stuck here with me instead of having a passionate fling,” she mutters. “Not the best birthday ever, is it?”

 

He stares down at her, thinking she’s lost her mind. Katniss squirms a little under his scrutiny until he speaks. “Believe me, there’s no competition. There’s nowhere else and no one else I’d rather be with right now.”

 

He hopes his voice isn't as husky and adoring as it sounds in his mind. She blinks slowly and for a second, he thinks she drops her gaze to his mouth, but this is Katniss. His best friend. His best friend who was annoyed ten seconds ago when he brought up their sort-of a kiss. Then she slowly licks her lips and he follows the path of her tongue as it retreats back into her mouth before her teeth tug on the glistening surface he wants so badly to taste.

 

“Who says you can’t have both?” she whispers.

 

His brain comes to a screeching halt, complete with clanging metal and shattering glass. Because if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that his best friend whom he’s been in love with for at least two years, probably longer, just suggested that they have sex. Tonight. On his birthday.

 

He searches her eyes for some sign that he heard her right. Her gray eyes remain focused on him, wide and uncertain. Her chest rises with quick breaths that puff through her parted lips. She leans towards him and every few seconds, her body trembles.

 

“Peeta...if it hadn’t been an accident...would you have...wanted to kiss me?”

 

He’s expecting a strategically placed clap of thunder to announce his impending doom, because he has no idea how or why this conversation has taken this turn. Slowly, so he doesn’t frighten her or disturb the threads holding them together, he nods.

 

“Show me,” she whispers, and that’s when he stops thinking and acts on whatever the hell mood just struck the two of them, lifting his hand to cup her cheek. She smiles tremulously and leans into his palm. He nearly shouts with joy and caresses his thumb over her lower lip, watches the plump flesh respond to his touch. Her eyes flutter shut and he swears he hears her sigh.

 

He lowers his head to hers, still expecting to be rudely awakened and realize that he fell asleep on the couch and the past few minutes have been nothing more than another dream. More wishful thinking. Or for her to shove him away and yell at him that he completely misread everything.

 

But then she makes a noise of frustration, grabs a fistful of his shirt in her hand and tugs on it. His body and his mind finally come to a consensus and he caresses his lips over hers. Once to hear the sharp inhale of expectation. Another for the soft whine that tells him she really does want him to kiss her. Then he tilts his head the smallest amount so he doesn’t crush her nose when his lips join with hers and he wraps his arm tighter around her, turns so that her chest smashes into his.

 

She doesn’t run or push him away. Doesn’t remind him that they’re friends. Instead, Katniss winds her fingers through his hair, meeting each movement of his lips with one of her own. For a moment, he thinks to pinch himself, to make sure that this is real, but that would require him to remove a hand from her, something he’s not willing to do. His head spins with questions and desires.

 

Eventually, Katniss moves to lay back on the couch, dragging him down with her. They shift limbs and hands awkwardly, still fused at the mouth. He tries to focus on one sense at a time, to memorize her taste, the feel of her lips on his, the sounds she makes in the back of her throat, the scent of her soap a familiar tether to reality as they kiss. And kiss.

 

Without much space, his knee slips off the couch and he has to brace his foot on the floor, even as she lifts her legs to wrap around his waist, firmly pulling him down on top of her, fingers skimming over his neck, scraping his scalp. She moans and opens her mouth beneath his, letting him feel the sound as it ripples across his tongue. He returns it as their cores align, the grip her legs have on him pulling him flush against her. He can’t help the quick thrust into her, can’t help but revel at the heat that surrounds them and the friction between them, can’t help the quick leap to thinking about what this would feel like if they were both naked.

 

She gasps and backs away from the kiss. Peeta mentally berates himself.

 

Too fast. Much too fast.

 

“Sorry,” he mutters, trying to leave her embrace, but she clings to him.

 

“For what?” she breathes and he stares at her, lips swollen, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed. A thrill of arrogance runs through him, clouding his better intentions to slow things down. He did that. He made Katniss look like this, ripe for loving.

 

“For...rushing things?” he asks uncertainly.

 

“I don’t feel rushed,” she admits, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

 

“You don’t,” he whispers and she shakes her head.

 

“Unless...unless you don’t want--”

 

“No,” he says in a rush. Her brows snap together in a scowl and he hurries to fix the damage his haste has created. “I want to. You have no idea how much or how long I’ve wanted this, Katniss. But that’s just it. I don’t want to scare you.”

 

“Why do you think I’d be scared?” she asks, still scowling. He hears his brothers’ taunts in his head, calling him ‘old man.’ He’s not old, not even close, but an image of him and Katniss in rocking chairs, gray and wrinkled with five feet of space and no words of love between them hits him just then. Screw it. He’ll find a way to repair friendship later if he’s wrong. He can’t take the chance that he might miss out on this because he’s afraid.

 

“Because I’m helplessly in love with you, Katniss. I have been for years,” he murmurs. She smiles. Astonishing and radiant. His heart thunders to life at the sight of that expression. Her hand slowly brings his lips back down to hers.

 

“Then stop trying to run off when I’m trying to kiss you,” she says and he laughs lightly for a second before kissing her again.

 

This time, he doesn’t hold back, taking the time to kiss her deeply. To let his hand wander up and down her side, to slip beneath her sweater and skim the smooth skin of her belly, up to her ribs and down, ever so slowly working his way higher. 

 

Shock jolts through him when his fingers brush the underside of her breast and find no bra barring the way. Lust follows swiftly behind as he cups the perky mound in his hand and she arches into him, moaning desperately. Loud enough to muffle the thunder overhead. Her legs clamp around him and after that, he loses track of who touches where and when. He’s lost in the need to feel every inch of her because it is better for him to touch and discover than lose his sanity in thoughts of wasted time.

 

He kisses her cheeks and eyelids, nibbles on her ears and neck, moves his hips to the rhythm of her gasping moans and quiet pleas of nothing but ‘yes’ and ‘Peeta.’ Her hands move to his jeans to unfasten his belt and slip the button through its loop. The release of pressure when she lowers his zipper snaps him back to some semblance of thinking and he pulls back to halt her hands.

 

“Don’t you want…?”

 

“More than anything,” he whispers, kissing her lips swiftly before turning them on the couch so she’s reclining against the back and he’s kneeling before her on the floor. Because he’s still not sure where this is going or how much she’ll allow him, and he refuses to waste his chance to do the one thing that has driven his fantasies of her for years.

 

He frantically undoes her jeans, ignoring the clank of his own belt as it flaps freely. Gripping her jeans, he tugs them down her legs, urging her to lift her hips to help. When they’re off and discarded to the side, he glances back up at her, notes that her smile still flirts with her lips. As he reaches for her panties, though, he freezes with his hands in midair at the image of her like this. Katniss shifts her legs impatiently. Or perhaps nervously.

 

“Beautiful,” he whispers, fingers tracing over the sunset hued flowers on her panties. His favorite colors. He wonders if she wore these on purpose today or if it’s coincidence. When he looks up at her face, she’s holding her fists near her mouth, chewing lightly on her thumb nails. He wracks his brains for a way to get her to laugh, to relax again.

 

“For me?” he asks with a cheeky grin. “You shouldn’t have.”

 

Then she laughs, a little breathless but it’s still one of hers, and helps him slide the panties down her legs. He lifts one leg by her ankle and drops soft kisses to the delicate skin. Up one centimeter at a time, stealing brief glances at her face to make sure she’s still with him. When he reaches her knee, he drapes her leg over his shoulder and keeps going. Kisses. Soft bites. Slow licks. The higher he travels, the faster and louder she breathes until he reaches his goal and she releases a singing sigh of relief. Her hips undulate beneath his mouth, her hands curving over the back of the couch to anchor herself.

 

He’s drunk on her taste in seconds, lost in the hooded gaze she bestows on him when he looks up at her. With a teasing dip of his tongue, he moves to the side and down her other leg. Katniss whimpers and rolls her hips towards him again and he holds back his chuckle, still stunned that she seems to want this as badly as him.

 

“I love the way you taste,” he whispers as he nuzzles her thigh and kisses down to her knee before returning where she wants him. “I love everything about you.”

 

When he makes it back, she lets loose a moan that sounds more like a song to him. He makes it his life goal to get her to make that noise endlessly until she comes on his tongue. One hand grips his hair, and she begs him not to stop as her nails scorch his scalp. He risks a glance up at her face, twisted in effort. Peeta shifts enough to slide first one then a second finger between her lips, nearly coming right then at the incredible warmth that greets him, the gentle tug of her walls that tells him she’s close. 

 

Her body bows on the couch as she wails his name. Then she snaps back and curls in on him, legs clamping down and holding him in place as she pulses against his fingers and tongue. It’s everything he’s dreamt of and more.

 

Katniss flops back on the couch when she’s done, panting and flushed with her release. Slowly, he pulls his fingers from her and plants one last kiss on her before sitting back as her legs fall away from him. Her eyes flutter open in time for her to watch him lick his fingers clean of her. She shudders and then covers her mouth, but not before a giggle escapes her. And then another from behind her hands.

 

“What’re you thinking?” he asks, scared of the answer.

 

“We should’ve done this sooner, birthday boy,” she says and his cock jumps at her sultry tone. Her eyes widen and she sits up on the couch. “You weren’t supposed to do that!”

 

“Do what?” Peeta’s heart sinks at her words, and he stands up to put some distance between them. But her hands grasp at his jeans and pull him towards her instead. 

 

“It’s your birthday, not mine,” she says, confusing him because she sounds annoyed with him, but at the same time, she’s yanking his clothes down.

 

“I wanted to,” he insists. And then her lips wrap around him and his assertion that he’s wanted to eat her out like that for years gets lost in his strangled curse.

 

He tangles his fingers in her hair and tries to slow her down, but time and months of celibacy and the taste of her still on his tongue and years of fantasies work against him. It only takes a few hard sucks of her mouth before the sensation becomes too much. He manages to pull her off of him and cup his hand over himself just in time.

As soon as the euphoria passes, the shame takes its place. He grabs his clothes and tugs them up just enough, turns away from her in embarrassment, mumbling an apology before retreating into his bathroom to clean himself up, taking one of the candles with him. He’s a little more harsh with his body than he needs to be, humiliated that he blew his load like a fucking teenager the second she touched him.

 

“Peeta,” she calls to him through the door and knocks softly before opening it. He curses himself for not locking it and focuses on tucking himself back in his shorts and washing his hands and face so he doesn’t have to see her disappointment with him in her eyes.

 

Her hands slide beneath his shirt, startling him as she embraces him from behind. “Are you mad at me?”

 

“No,” he says, stunned by her question. He meets her eyes in the mirror, peeking over his shoulder. “I’m mad at myself.”

 

“You shouldn’t be,” she whispers. “I liked making you lose control that fast. And I especially liked what you did to me before that.”

 

They stare at one another for a minute, and Peeta wonders how they proceed from here. The awful thought occurs to him that she meant this as a one night thing. After all, that’s what his brothers had intended, and all of this started with her saying he could have both. Both hot sex with a one night stand and a night spent with his best friend.

 

But now that he knows what she tastes like, what his name sounds like flying off her tongue when she’s in the middle of coming, he’s not willing to let that go.

 

“Katniss, I’m still helplessly in love with you. I want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you.”

 

“Well then come to bed, Peeta,” she whispers. She doesn’t let go of him as he lets his jeans fall to the floor and kicks them into the corner. Even as he brushes his teeth, she keeps one hand on him while brushing her own with the toothbrush she keeps in his bathroom. She doesn’t let go of him as they clean up their dinner mess, extinguish the candles, and eventually, she leads him to his own bed, crawling beneath the covers first and looking back at him expectantly.

 

“We should maybe take things slow, yeah? So no one gets hurt,” he says quietly. She lifts one shoulder but doesn’t look away from him.

 

“Okay. But we’ve shared a bed before, Peeta,” she reminds him. He laughs, although it sounds nervous or maybe hysterical to his own ears. He runs a hand through his hair and then climbs into his bed.

 

As he settles beside her, she wriggles into his arms and then cups his face in her hands before kissing him. The kiss soothes many of his fears, but he knows they’ll still need to talk a little in the morning.

 

************************

**TWENTY-FOUR**

 

Bright May sunshine warms the earth, greeting the newly bloomed flowers in the yard. Guests mingle and Peeta adds his carefully chosen present to the small stack before making his way over towards the grill where Katniss is engaged in a heated discussion with a tall, dark-haired guy he doesn’t recognize.

 

She looks up and smiles at Peeta, sending his heart tripping over itself before she meets him halfway and throws her arms around his neck.

 

“Happy Birthday, Katniss,” Peeta murmurs into her neck.

 

“Cut the crap. What’d you bring me?” she asks and he laughs, but points out his gift on the picnic table. She hurries over and tears into it.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to wait until after we sing to you?” he teases.

 

Katniss scowls at him, but the glint of mischief in her eyes tells him that she’s not truly angry with him. She flips open the small box and he holds his breath, waiting for her reaction. Her hand trembles as she runs a finger over the delicate silver locket with the bird engraved on it. Carefully pulling the necklace from its cushion, she holds it in her palm and opens it, gasping slightly when she sees the pictures.

 

Lately, she’s been missing her family more. Her parents and her sister. Peeta managed to get his hands on pictures of them, all smiling and happiness, and tucked them into the locket to remind Katniss that she’s never alone. To remind her of the people who love her when she’s off on research trips or responsibility and distance conspire to keep her from her loved ones a little longer than she’d like.

 

“For when you miss them,” he says quietly, hoping he hasn’t stepped over the line. But she looks up at him with glistening eyes and hands it to him before turning her back to him and lifting her hair.

 

“Help me put it on?” she asks.

 

“Of course,” he says and gently lays it across her throat. Once the necklace is clasped, he squeezes her shoulder and she lets her hair fall back into place.

 

“I love it, Peeta,” she says, turning to face him again. She rests her hands on his shoulders and rises on her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’s perfect.”

 

“Good, because I’m pretty sure they don’t take returns,” he says to cover they way he’s flushing and trembling at the first ever brush of her lips on his skin. She laughs, but then Johanna shouts for her and Katniss leaves him with a sigh.

 

He wishes he could have more of her time, but the gathered crowd demands much of her attention. When he does get a moment with her, he points out that she’s clearly got droves of adoring friends. She comes back claiming they’re all there for the free food, a typical Katniss response that makes him laugh.

 

Halfway through the meal, he’s sent to the kitchen to grab another container of potato salad from the fridge. On the way back, he’s stopped dead in his tracks before he rounds the corner of the house by the conversation he hears.

 

“You’re not even the least bit upset that he came here with Madge and they’re now sucking face?” Johanna asks, and Peeta knows she’s talking about Darius, Katniss’ ex-boyfriend, who showed up to the party as Madge’s guest. Which means Johanna is talking to Katniss. He should announce his presence rather than eavesdrop.

 

“God no. He can suck face with whomever he wants,” Katniss responds without a trace of anger, malice, hurt, or even jealousy in her voice.

 

“I knew it. You’re in love with him,” Johanna crows.

 

“I am not,” Katniss insists.

 

“Not Darius, Brainless. The one that caused your breakup with Darius,” Johanna drops her voice and Peeta’s ears perk up as Katniss speaks again.

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” she insists, but there’s a hitch in her voice that tells Peeta she’s lying. His heart plummets to his toes and he braces a hand on the side of the house. Katniss is in love with someone. It was only a matter of time, but he thought he had more of it.

 

Ever since she’d broken up with Darius, Peeta has been working up the courage to finally tell her how he feels about her. It wouldn’t be easy or simple, he reminded himself. Their friendship means the world to him, and to her too, he hopes. Risking it on a romantic relationship might kill it or hurt them both. So he planned on being delicate about bringing it up, emphasizing that he’d do everything in his power to keep their friendship alive, to include burying his feelings as deep as necessary if they turned out to be as one sided as he suspects. But now it sounds like it doesn’t matter anyways. He waited too long.

 

“Oh come on. We both know Darius dumped you because he knew it, too. It’s all over your face every time you’re around him. You need to get on that before someone else does,” Jo keeps going despite Katniss’ protests. “I’m just saying, there’s any number of ladies who wanna climb him like a tree. Plus, he’s head over heels for you.”

 

He’s heard enough and back tracks to open the side door to the house before slamming it shut to give them a warning and walking back around the house with a smile on his face. He manages to smile at them both as he walks by on his way to take the salad to the buffet table. 

 

Five minutes later as Katniss fills her plate with seconds, the tall and dark-haired guy from earlier rubs elbows with her and talks to her quietly.

 

“Oh, Peeta, this is Gale,” she introduces them, a pretty flush on her face. “Gale and I went to the same high school together.”

 

“Yeah?” Peeta asks as he shakes Gale’s hand.

 

“Ran into one another back in February, was it?” Gale says, glancing at Katniss for confirmation. Peeta misses whatever she says, his mind caught on the timing, so close the day she and Darius broke up. And this is the first he’s heard mention of Gale at all. Which means they’ve been seeing each other and Katniss hadn’t seen fit to tell Peeta, her best friend, about it. He swallows the lump of hurt this revelation causes.

 

They talk for a minute, but when Katniss finishes her food and tosses her plate in the trash, any miniscule hope Peeta had left is smashed to pieces. Gale leans down towards Katniss and murmurs something that makes her laugh, her head thrown back and a satisfied smile on Gale’s face as he leads her off to the side, away from Peeta. 

 

He’s not blind. He can tell Gale’s handsome. Tall, dark, taciturn, and brooding. Mysterious. Traditionally masculine based on his conversation about archery and backpacking through Peru, fishing and hunting. The classic literary hero. And Katniss seems so at ease around him, that Peeta now knows Gale must be the one Johanna was referring to. 

 

He reminds himself that his feelings are his problem to get over, and for the next few months, focuses on being just her friend. Like always. It’d hurt far more to have her cut him out of her life completely should her relationship with Gale escalate, so Peeta concentrates on being the best friend possible, making sure she knows he’ll always be there for her, no matter what. All the while, he braces himself for the blow to his heart. But it never arrives.

 

Sometime around New Years, Gale starts dating one of Katniss’ coworkers instead.

 

************************

**TWENTY-FIVE**

 

Peeta’s not sure what wakes him. He lays in the dark trying to place the sounds. There’s movement beside him in the bed and then a sharp inhale.

 

“Katniss?” he asks, reaching out to turn on the bedside lamp, grateful that the power has been restored, before rolling over to check on her. Sometimes she has nightmares about a car wreck that nearly killed her entire family when she was a teenager. Her eyes are wide and hazy as she watches him, her cheeks stained with heat, her entire body rigid. “Are you okay?”

 

“Fine,” she gasps. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

 

“You don’t sound fine,” Peeta says and scoots closer to her. She flinches back away from him. His brow furrows in confusion, but as the seconds tick by with the appalled look still on her face, Peeta accepts what he feared earlier. That whatever happened between them was not some grand confession of her love for him after all, but just a one night stand. And now she probably regrets it. “Okay. I’ll just go sleep on the couch. Give you some space.”

 

“Graham sleeps there,” Katniss says, prompting Peeta to look at the time on his phone. It’s not even midnight yet. Rain still drums on the roof, steady and heavy, although he doesn’t hear any thunder.

 

“They won’t be home for a few more hours. He can sleep on the floor,” Peeta says and moves to stand from the bed.

 

“Wait!” Katniss says and grabs his arm. Peeta stares down at her hand, at the two fingers glistening in the faint light. He can feel the sticky moisture coating them. Slowly, he lifts his gaze to her as the realization of what she was doing dawns on him. 

 

The very thought that she was doing that beside him, in his bed, coupled with her tight grip on his arm sends desire screaming through his body. She huffs before releasing him, but he grips her wrist and brings her hand towards his face. It’ll probably scare the shit out of her, but he’s already told her that he’s in love with her, so what’s one more gamble?

 

He can smell her arousal on her fingers and watches her eyes turn limpid with desire as he opens his mouth and sets her fingers on his tongue before sucking. The taste confirms his suspicions. He’s never forgetting this taste as long as he lives.

 

“Were you touching yourself, Katniss?” he asks, the lack of sleep removing his usual filters. She licks her lips and flexes her fingers, her wrist still in his hold. 

 

“Maybe,” she whispers and he waits for further explanation. She seems to come to a decision and scoots closer to him, leans towards him. “I didn’t want to bother you, but I...I was thinking about you, Peeta. I always think about you.”

 

His stomach flips over and his cock stirs to life at her confession. These aren’t things Katniss would share easily or with just anyone. She guards her heart and her desires like they’re gold in Fort Knox most of the time. Too many dates and boyfriends who claimed to love her fiery spirit only to try to douse it once they had her has made her cautious. Peeta wants to destroy every last one of them for nearly destroying one of the things that draws him to her. 

 

“But there’s more,” she whispers and he smiles slightly at the memory of his birthday two years ago. “I feel the same way.”

 

It takes him a moment to catch up, but when he does, his heart soars. “You’re helplessly in love with me?”

 

“I am,” she says with a slow nod. “I have been for a long time. I’m not sure how long, but I know that I don’t want what happened earlier tonight to be the last time we do those things together.”

 

Peeta shifts beneath the covers to move in on her and Katniss reaches out to palm him through his shorts, making him impossibly hard. “I thought we were taking things slow.”

 

“Slow? We’ve both wanted this for years, Peeta. Don’t you think that’s slow enough?” she asks, one eyebrow climbing up her forehead as her lips curl into a smile.

 

“Fair enough,” he says, relieved when she twists their hands so she’s gripping his wrist and pulls his hand straight to her center. She moans at the first touch of his fingers, the sound needy enough that he barely registers that her panties are nowhere on her body. “Fuck you’re already so wet. Next time you can’t sleep...wake me up and I’ll gladly help.”

 

“Oh, okay. I will,” she whispers. A thought occurs to him and he needs to know, another piece that would mean she didn’t make this choice on a whim.

 

“When I asked you earlier today if I was losing my touch--”

 

“Oh my god,” she moans, gripping his arms as he curls his fingers inside her. His cock jumps eagerly when he feels just how aroused she already is.

 

“What did you do after we hung up last night?”

 

“This. Oh, Peeta,” she admits breathlessly. 

 

He hasn’t even made a wish on birthday candles yet today, and here his wishes are all coming true. He strokes her folds and latches his mouth around one nipple after she tears her shirt from her body. Her hands claw at his shirt too, but he waits until she’s writhing and pleading with him, telling him that she needs him, before he stops kissing and touching her long enough to remove his clothes. His hands fumble around in his nightstand before he finds a condom. He squints at the expiration date, his vision clouded as Katniss’ teeth tug on his earlobe and her body writhes beneath him.

 

“Hurry. Now,” she urges when he’s able to make out that it’s still good, if only just. Once he has it on, their hands grip and tug, bodies shift until he’s sliding inside of her. 

 

“Finally,” she sighs when he's buried all the way, his pulse thrumming madly and his arms shaking in the effort to keep from pounding into her mindlessly.

 

“You love me,” he whispers as he pulls out till just his head is still inside her.

 

“I do, Peeta,” she gasps as he plunges back in.

 

“Why’d we wait so long?” he groans as he grips the sheets beside her ribs and moves slowly, so he doesn't hurt her.

 

“I don't know anymore,” she says threading her fingers through his hair and bringing his mouth to hers. They kiss as he moves, building her up to the point she can't take it anymore. 

 

He can't decide if he'd rather kiss her or watch, and ends the kiss to rest his forehead on hers and do the latter, awed by the open desire and need in her gray eyes. “God Katniss, I wish I'd been braver sooner. Had spoken up a year ago when I wanted to.”

 

“Shut up and make up for it now,” she orders. She writhes beneath him, tangling the sheets around their legs, moaning with each thrust until she bends upwards and grips the slats of his headboard with one hand.

 

“Please. Peeta, please,” she whines. “Don't make me wait any longer.”

 

He moves faster, encouraged by the singing wails of delight that fly from her throat and dance through his senses along with the ecstasy of being inside her. She demands everything from him and he gives it, gripping the headboard with one hand next to hers, to give himself better leverage, shouting when her nails rake over his shoulder and back, trailing fire through his blood with her eager moans and desperate thrusts meeting his. The bed squeaks and the headboard keeps time against the wall. Their slick skin slides and sticks and burns at every touch. It's never been this loud, intense, or uninhibited with anyone before and he shoves aside regrets that he didn't speak up sooner to live fully in this moment, to focus on her first tremors on his cock.

 

“Like that. Ung! Just like that, Peeta!” she exclaims, her eyes locked on his, and then her words dissolve into incoherent sounds of elation as he twists his hips until her walls cease their clenching. His arms shake and she practically purrs as she moves her hips against his, whispers to him to keep going, to come for her.

 

The headboard once more thumps against the wall in time with his desperate grunts. He tries not to pound her like an animal, but her claws in his skin and the things she whispers to him drive him out of his mind with need. He's hanging off the edge until she demands that he ‘let go’ and he thrusts twice more, releasing a gut wrenching shout as euphoria burns through him. Peeta falls still as he fills the condom, his orgasm lasting longer than any he can remember. He practically blacks out from the intense pleasure and has to roll to the side to keep from crushing her when he collapses.

 

He lays there with his eyes closed and their legs entangled, catching his breath and trailing his fingers through the sheen of sweat on her skin, listening to her ragged breathing as they slowly drift back down.

 

“Happy Birthday, Peeta. Told you that you could have both,” she whispers as she rolls over to cuddle into his side. He holds her there and smiles, opening one eye and checking the clock on his phone, surprised when he sees that the time is 11:58. So it is still his birthday. Setting the phone down, he gathers her in his embrace and kisses her, slow and savoring each touch, each soft smacking sound of their mouths. The thought drifts through his mind that his brother was wrong. The best thing to ever happen to him occurred on his twenty-fifth birthday, and he’s certain that it can only get better from here.

 

“I never gave you your present,” she pouts at one point, making Peeta laugh.

 

“You mean there's more?”

 

**********************

 

Although Katniss staying the night is nothing new, they’re careful about their appearance the next morning as they wander into the kitchen for breakfast, not wanting to give his brothers anything to antagonize them over. Peeta's surprised to see both of his brothers awake, leaning against the kitchen counter and drinking coffee, a plate of muffins fresh from the oven sitting on the island. Both of them appear cheerful and not the least bit hungover.

 

“Morning,” he says as Katniss slides into one of the stools at the island and he starts the water for tea.

 

“Good morning indeed,” Ryen says, making the hair on the back of Peeta's neck stand on edge. He turns to say something, but his brother cuts him off. “We didn’t get a chance to give you your cake last night. But last minute changes needed to be made to the message, so I guess it turned out better this way.”

 

Katniss lifts the lid off the plastic cake caddy, her face almost instantly turning a splotchy red before she drops the lid back in place and stares up at Peeta with wide eyes.

 

He's by her side in two steps as his brothers both double over in laughter. At first, Katniss tries to stop him from looking, and he's now a little scared of what he'll find beneath the lid, but then she sighs and shrugs, flipping the lid off for him herself and smiling wryly.

 

“Guess they got home earlier than we thought,” she says and Peeta looks down at the messy frosting job that clearly indicates his brothers scraped off the original icing and replaced it with the four words in bright blue.

 

_ Congrats on the Sex! _

 

He opens his mouth to yell at his brothers for being insensitive assholes, but Katniss laughs and then yanks his head down to hers, stopping his words and his annoyance at his brothers with her lips on his. He loses himself quickly in the kiss and only vaguely hears his brothers’ reaction.

 

“So does this mean you’ll have an open bedroom soon?”

 

“Oh fuck no. Don't leave me with him, Peeta,” Ryen whines.

 

Peeta lifts his head and pushes the cake towards his brother. “Have some cake, Ryen. It'll make you feel better.” Then he deposits the plate of fresh muffins in Katniss’ hands, scoops her out of her chair, and carries her and the muffins back to bed...so they can have both.


End file.
